A Story Made Of Invisible Ink.

While walking out of the living room she noticed that all the candles in the silver stand where not the same. The two on the right were long, white tapered candles but the one on the left was a tapered vanilla-scented candle. Not many people would have noticed the difference between the two. The curtains were not drawn and sunlight was pouring into the room. In light that harsh it's not easy to differentiate between two shades of white but she could. She could always tell exactly what things were the moment she saw them. She walked to her bedroom with the vanilla candle in her hand whilst wondering who would have been stupid enough to put it into the stand. She knew it couldn't be her husband because he was the reason she never brought vanilla-scented anything into the house. It was one of her favourite scents but he said it made him sick so she kept it out of everything. The candles had been a gift that she had stored away.

Once she got to her bedroom she pulled out a black pocketbook from the front flap of her beige purse. She slowly flipped through the pages until she got to the last one; reading a list here and there. She liked the mornings, it was so quiet with him out of house so she could take care of it. She loved him but it's hard to do your best work when you are being watched. She read the list on the page in front of her while licking the tip of the pen with just the tip of her tongue. It was one of those habits you form without even realizing it and never notice on your own. She scribbled at the bottom of the page and then went back to reading.

*Milk*
*Those nuts he likes*
*Chicken*: *Try the new meat shop.*
*His gym shirts*
*Make salsa*
*Sort storage closet*
*Pick up dry cleaning*
*Fix iron box*
*Candles*

The licking grew slower as she formulated her plan. The plan was the same everyday to an onlooker but to her it was challenging to have a daily schedule. Some jobs seem monotonous to the people watching but are interesting to others. She liked making her daily plans. Before she showered she marinated the chicken and put the laundry in the washing machine. After she hung it up to dry she dressed up in loose pajama-pants and a white T-shirt and left the house.

By the time she was back it was lunch time. She ate while she chopped tomatoes and listened to music. Chopping turned into an adventure sport called dance-chopping until she dropped the knife a little too many times. Time was when adventure sport meant something very different but she liked her new version of it. While the food was cooking she cleaned the house: changed the sheets, swept the floors, mopped, dusted off shelves and ironed clothes. She put his clothes for the next day in a hanger and hung it outside the closet, the rest of them went inside. Once she got the food ready, she cleaned the kitchen before heading to the bedroom to shower. In all of this she had forgotten to put away all the things she had bought at the market. They sat at the dining table while she showered. She put on some perfume and a loose yellow dress. Though she would never admit this to her friends, she also put on just a little bit of eyeliner. She didn't need it but he liked it and she liked it when she seemed pretty for him.

The doorbell rang while she was in the middle of sorting out the storage closet. She could never get all of it done in one day so she did a little bit of it everyday while she waited for him to come home. She never ran but she walked to the door as fast as she could to the door. She could never understand why she was so excited to see him everyday when he spent every night in their bed anyway. She leaned in to kiss him as soon as she opened the door. He kissed her while he walked past the doorway and into the house.

"How was your day?" She asked him taking his bag.
"It was fine," he told her while pulling her in for a hug.
"I missed you," she said as he strode past her to hang the keys on the key holder right by the door. His eyes darted around the room as she held onto his hand.
"I missed you too," he said absent-mindedly as a frown came over his face, "Why are there only two candles in the candle stand?"

While he showered she unpacked her shopping bags and got dinner ready. She wished she hadn't forgotten to put the candle into the stand and she wished it didn't bother her so much that she did. There was always something She failed at; she believed that was the reason why he failed to notice all the other things she did. She tried to put it from her mind as she put dinner on the table.

"The food is nice," he said casually while eating.
"Thank you," her words were a little more breathless than they needed to be but one tends to get breathless when they hear the words they wait all day for but people forget how much their appreciation could be worth to another. It isn't cruel, it's human.
"Whatever happened to that nutty peanut sauce we had?" He asked holding her hand over the dinner table.
"There's no more of that," she told him quietly.
"Get some more, sweetheart," he said, "It was delicious."
"Oh," she said beginning one of those sentences that you really don't want to say but lack of humility will make you do it anyway, "I made it."
"You are the best," he told her kissing her fingers, "Can I have some more of that salsa?"

Later in the evening she sat next to him while he did some work on his computer. She brought him his drink and held it for him while he typed. Every now and then he stopped her and gave her a little kiss that stopped her short. Soon the laptop lay discarded on the side of the bed while she was bent over  the edge of it.
With his fingers he pinched the insides of her thighs as she whimpered into the mattress.
"You're a bad girl for forgetting to replace the candle," he said sweetly into her ear while he pinched her harder, "But you won't forget again, will you?"
She hated being hurt so much but she loved it when he did it. It felt special even when it was unpleasant. She shook her head against the bed. He kept on pinching as he fucked her and she kept on sobbing as she came.

She lay in his arms as he closed his eyes and held her close. And as he snored away into oblivion, she turned on the nightlight. She waited a few seconds after the click to ensure he was really asleep. She pulled out her pad and licked her pen as she looked at him breathing deeply. Some elves are invisible even when they aren't hiding.

"*Make peanut sauce,*" she began writing in ink that would be insignificant in the annals of history that are decorated by celebrated men and women, but she was unconcerned with that, she just kept on scribbling with her invisible ink for the kind of happiness that is ineffable and for the kind of appreciation that is unachievable.